The Last Enemy To Be Destroyed
by AussieScum
Summary: Thought I would make a written version of the second to last mission in the Red Dead normal campaign. Hope you like it. Rated M for intense swearing, descriptive gore and blood.


Disclaimer: The game Red Dead Redemption does not belong to me in anyway.

It belongs to Rockstar Games.

Rated M+ for intense swearing, gore and blood.

Dialogue:

"Normal Talk"

'John's thoughts'

_Flashback_

**The Last Enemy That Shall Be Destroyed**

_Beecher's Hope, Old Plains, West Elizabeth, Southern United States_

_11:47:45 PM_

_March 24__th__, 1911_

John Marston breathed heavily as he rushed his wife Abigail, and his 16 year old son Jack into his barn at Beecher's Hope. He was covered in dirt with small patches of blood splattering his gunpowder smelling body. The same could be said for his family.

'Those double-crossin' bastards…' he thought to himself sourly. 'They couldn't just leave me an' my family alone…damn you to hell Ross, or whatever hole you crawled out of.'

John Marston had previously belonged to a crime gang lead by a psychotic man called Dutch Van der Linde. After he was left to die, he left the gang, and got married to Abigail, soon having their son Jack. They bought a farm in the territory West Elizabeth of the Southern United States, near the border of Mexico. They lived their peacefully, until the day Edgar Ross showed up…

_Flashback_

_John's POV_

"_Let em' go, you rotten sons a' bitches!" I yelled struggling to get out of the grasp of the FBI agents pinning me to the ground. They had snuck up on me and my family when we were talking in the yard of our farm. They had knocked me to the ground, breaking my nose in the process, as more showed on horses, tying up Jack and Abi._

"_I said let em' go! You got no right to do this!" I yelled in a harsh, yet loud voice._

"_That Mr. Marston", I heard from feet away, "is where you are sadly mistaken." One of the two holding me down pulled me up by the back of my shirt forcing me to look up, letting me get a good look at the one who spoke._

_The speaker was a man in his early 60s at most. He had incredibly graying hair covered by a bowler hat, along with a dark grey caterpillar of a mustache on his dirty, wrinkly face. He had a pin-stripe vest on, with a white button up shirt and red tie underneath, and a brown jacket over it. Below that were khaki brown business jeans with black loafers that looked hundreds of dollars expensive._

"_Who the hell are you? And why are you takin' my family!" I screamed hoarsely in his face, which earned me a swift punch to the jaw from the one holding me on my right._

"_Hold on now boys, he said monotone, there's no need to do that, especially since he knows he's out numbered. Reluctantly, the ones holding me dropped me on the ground and backed away, keeping an eye on me. "Now to answer your question Mr. Marston, he said looking me in the eye, were doing this to get proper justice, and your attention."_

_I felt anger rise in my chest, clenching my fists tightly as I listen to him. 'Justice? What the hell is he talking about!' I thought, gritting my teeth and staring so hard at him that if looks could kill, he would be stone cold dead. He seemed to notice my reaction, because he put a smirk on his face that somehow made me feel sick, and he spoke again._

"_Well it looks like I got your attention Mr. Marston, but let me put my words down in a way that your small excuse of a brain can understand. Our justice, and the way we do things, is usually to ourselves, and away from the public. But this special case is…different._

"_What do you mean by different?" I asked with venom in my voice._

_He simply smiled and continued to speak, slowly circling around me while avoiding me form his sight like I'm a creature of some sort. "We mean different Mr. Marston, as in your special case, and the reason you got here. We've been wondering how it is exactly you got here in this little ranch of yours…" _

_My anger left, leaving a feeling of dread in my stomach, but not physically showing my surprise. He continued talking, not noticing my change in attitude. "So we've been keeping tabs, looking up old records, trying to find where it is exactly you came from… and it was only a couple days ago we found what we were looking for…",a ghost of a smile appeared on his face as he stopped circling and turned his head away from me. "Does the name Dutch mean anything to you?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice._

_I froze solid, looking at him with a shocked expression in my eyes and a frown appearing on my lips. 'He knows…'I thought horridly as I looked at this man who seemed to be watching the breeze flow through the trees next to the stables. 'How does he know? No! Forget that now. I have to stall him while I think a somethin'.' "Never heard a' him. He mean somethin' to yah?" I said, trying to buy time._

"_You never heard of him, huh?" he said to me in a mocking tone, obviously not believing me, but humoring me for some reason. "If that name doesn't mean anything, what about Bill Williamson? Hm? Or what about Javier Escuella? Does he ring a bell? I'm sure they would, since you were in a gang with them." I started to sweat immensely; he had hit it right on the nail. Those were the names of the people that I was in a gang with, along with Abi. 'Damn it.' I swore under my breath as I started to fidget. "We know exactly what you did Mr. Marston…we know what you were, no, what you still are. A criminal, that's what you are. Some of those things you did, including murdering innocents, stealing, robbing over forty different banks…"_

"_We were told there was a prize when we got to fifty" I said sarcastically, a small smile edging at my face. Even in this kind of situation, I could still pull out my legendary sarcasm. But that didn't seem to help or lighten the mood, since he then turned to me with a raised eyebrow and an icy stare. For some reason, that stare just brought up multiple feelings: anger, disappointment, shock, fear. These just sent shivers down to my very being, and I didn't know why. But I did know this. If I wasn't being watched, and my family wasn't in imminent danger, I would kick his ass and make sure he didn't cross my path again. But that wasn't the case. I couldn't do any of those things. I couldn't even protect my own family. I just had to stand here and listen to this arrogant, know-it-all bastard as he talked to me and let his lackeys take my loved ones away._

"_That may be true or not Mr. Marston, he replied while keeping his icy glare on me, but either way, your still a criminal. And every criminal has to pay for their crimes. And I know the kind of punishments fit for a criminal like you. Say putting you in prison for the rest of your life or perhaps hanging you for treason. Maybe even take away your property, since you don't deserve it, or I could have you put in the electric chair. You see Mr. Marston; those are the kinds of things that I can do from you. Because no matter how much or how far you run, you can't escape your past. And now it's come back to haunt you, in the shape of your old gang members, and me." As he said that last sentence, I had a gut feeling he was planning something, or already had, and he was about to unleash it._

"_So what now then? You just gonna take my family away and kill me here?" That seemed to be the only thing that could come out of my mouth as he continued to stare at me. But then I saw his face grimace, and he put his hands in his pocket and pulled out two things: a match and a cigar. He struck the match against the tree he was next to, making fire spring up from the end. Putting the cigar to his mouth, he moved the match to the end of the cigar hanging from his mouth, lighting it within seconds. He swung the match in his hand, putting it out, and then he threw it to the ground. He took a minute to take a long huff from his cigar, then took his right hand, withdrew it from his mouth, and exhaled the smoke sitting in his lungs, letting the cancerous smoke hang in the air. He looked down at it sitting in his hand, and then spoke with hate in his voice. "As much as I would like to do that Mr. Marston, I am not obliged to put a bullet in that cocky head of yours…yet. We have business to attend to that requires work and help. Yours specifically."_

"_You gotta be kidding me!" I screamed at this man who continually seemed to want me to throttle him right then and there. "You invade my home, beat me down, tie up my family, an' then expect me to jus' drop everythin' and help you on some adventure that I couldn't care less for? Why in hell do you think I would WANNA help you?" I stepped forward ready to beat him to death, when I heard multiple clicks. I looked around, and could only think up one thing, 'Shit'. More people had shown up without me noticing, and every one of them had a revolver, repeater, or rifle pointed at me. I looked at him, and saw he had a smug look on his face, along with the cigar back in his mouth._

"_The reason that you would be helping up Mr. Marston would be for the following reasons: we have your family, over 2 dozen weapons pointed at you, and a death sentence with your name on it. And like I said before, even though I would love to kill you and move on to another criminal, I don't have a choice. You were the last person associated with Williamson, Escuella, and Van der Linde. So here's the deal that we are making you, one which is fair, and comprehendible, even for your low intelligence. We want you to go after your old gang members, and I mean all of them. You're going to talk to them, and get them to come to us to…pay off their debt to society. Even if you have to use persuade them, beat them unconscious, push them off a cliff, I don't care. You have to bring their bodies to us as proof, dead or alive."_

"_And what exactly do I get from all this? A cake?" I said to him with venom and sarcasm in my voice._

"_I'd watch your tone Mr. Marston, or else…"the man said as he pulled back his coat, showing a pistol holstered to his belt. I stayed silent, gritting my teeth as I heard him speak to me. "Good…" he said as he pulled the cigar out of his mouth and threw it to the ground, grinding it under his loafer. " Now, as to what you get from this, you could say payback, or sound sleeping at night, but I say redemption for you. You bring them in, and your criminal record is gone. We'll leave your family alone, and you can continue to live on this pathetic farm and grow rice, or whatever it is you do here."_

_To say the least, I was shocked. He had rifles pointed at me, and he was saying I could be free if I got my old friends arrested. "You'd leave me and my family be?" I asked suspiciously, not believing a word of it._

"_Yes." He said simply as he crossed his arms. I in fact wanted to say yes, but I knew something was up; these had to be a catch._

"_What's the catch?" I asked, getting straight to the point._

"_Well what do you know, the man said in a mock tone of sarcasm, the dimwitted outlaw can actually think! Hallelujah!" he said as he threw in his arms in the air. The ones surrounding me started to chuckled, as I started to tighten my fists in anger, the knuckles starting to turn bone-white. He looked at me again and said, "The 'catch' as you called it Mr. Marston, is more like motivation. If you were to do this, your family would have to be put under 'government protection' until your buddies were caught."_

_My hate for this man started to swell up even more as I heard him speak. "So you're saying…" I said to him angrily, "that you would hold my family hostage until I caught Bill and the rest?"_

_He simply smiled and said, "That's exactly it Mr. Marston."_

_I sighed as I closed my eyes, thinking of what to do. After a minute, I looked up again and said, "Do I have a choice?"_

_The man seemed to think for a minute, then looked at me and said, "Now that you mention it…No, you don't." As he said this, he pulled out another cigar, lighting it as he did before._

_There was a moment of silence, then… "Alright, I'll do it."_

_A ghost of a grin appeared on his face as he motioned with his hand. The men surrounding us lowered their weapons, but from the looks I was receiving, were ready to bring them up again. "But…" I said quickly, gaining my more looks and a raised eyebrow from the man in front of me. "At least tell me your damn name so I know whose dirty work I'm doin'."_

_He paused for a moment, and then said, "Ross. Agent Edgar Ross. You best remember well Mr. Marston." He then motioned to his men again, saying "Boys. Please escort Mr. Marston to Blackwater. He has to catch the next ferry to Virginia for debriefing._

_Flashback end_

_John POV_

Eventually, I had caught all three of my former friends. Williamson, Escuella and Dutch were all dead, and it had taken months, but I had killed them with the help of people like Bonnie McFarlane, Marshall Johnson, Nigel West Dickens, and Abraham Reyes. Once I had killed Dutch, I remember when Ross told me that I was free to go and my family was at the farm, so I went to see for myself, and he was right. We were back together, but that didn't last for long. Turns out that Ross still thought of me as the last survivor of Dutch's gang, and so he wanted the last remnants of Dutch's Gang gone to get the credit. This leaves me here now, my family and I running and shooting for our lives from hundreds of bounty hunters, police, and marshals sent by Ross to kill us.

I quickly walk into the barn, seeing my son Jack being held by my wife Abigail. The looks on their faces shows their scared, I would be too. In fact, I am scared. Scared that I'll never see my family again, or I'll never get to grow old with Abi and watch Jack grow up to be a fine young man. But I can't worry about that now.

"Hey" I said to them, getting their attention. As I walk past them, I wave at them to follow me and say "C'mon!" I quickly walk them to my trusty Kentucky Saddler, Isabel; a gift from the McFarlane's when I helped them rustle up horses in New Austin 6 months ago. Isabel has been the fastest, most trust worthy steed I've had, and she'll need to be now. "Now listen, I said to them, Jack, Darlin', get on Isabel, and go find a place to hide." As I say this, I help Jack get onto Isabel, seeing that he is shaking from what's been going on. Inside, I know how he feels. Only a few minutes ago, he saw a person he saw as family, a friend of the family we called Uncle, die right in front of his eyes. It hadn't been the first time he'd seen death. He'd killed animals and skinned them, seeing blood and gore. But to see human death, especially one of those you care about, it's different.

I was shaken out of my stupor when Jack said, "You're comin' with us Pa." Jack was always a little head strong, but he also showed respect, and cared for his family. I always listened to him. But I couldn't do what he said this time.

"I'll catch up." Was all I said as I grabbed Abi's hand, and with the help of Jack, I put her on the horse behind Jack. "Whatever happens, keep ridin' and don't look back. Don't be worried about me, you hear?" Of course, saying this is a lot easier than believing it. They'll be as worried about me as I am about them.

Forcing those thoughts out of my head, I say, "Now get goin'!"

"You stay outta trouble John!" Abi says as she grabs onto Jack with her right arm and points to me with her left. She looks at me with a serious look on her face, but I see it betrays her as I see tears getting ready to fall from her eyes.

I grab her hand softly, looking into her teary eyes and saying, "Aint no trouble, Abigail. Aint no trouble." She leans down, and we close our eyes as our lips quickly meet. From this kiss, I feel plenty of emotions. Passion, happiness, but I also feel pity, and sadness. From these I know that she knows I won't be coming after them. I will be staying behind to by them time. After a few seconds, we pull from each other and as I hold her hand, I look into her eyes and say, "I love you."

She lets the tears fall, knowing she'll never see me again, and with difficulty from her tears, she says "I-I love you." I watch her tears roll down her face, and I take one last look, knowing I'll never be able to wake up to her face next to mine in the morning again. I'll never be able to hold her in my arms. I won't be able to wipe the tears from her face and say its okay.

I quickly let go of her hand, and with small tears starting to surface, I look at them and yell, "Now GO!" I slap the back of Isabel, and with a neigh, she charges off with Jack and Abi on her back, out the barn, out the corral, and out the farm. I sadly look on at them as they charge away, knowing that was the last time we will ever see each other again. After what seems to be minutes, I turn around and think, '_Be safe Jack. Be safe Abigail. Please.'_

I slowly walk towards the front doors of the barn, the only other entrance that has been closed off. Sweat starts to form on my brow as I finally reach them. I slowly push forward the right door, getting a look at what is outside waiting for me through the crack of the door. As soon as the crack shows, I swear under my breath at what I see. Circling the entire front of the barn is policemen, US Marshals, Army Officers, bounty hunters, all of them carryings all weapons imaginable. From revolvers and repeaters to rifles, shotguns and pistols. But what makes me most angry, is Ross standing at the front of the circle, his pistol in his hand. Sighing, I quickly pull the door back, closing it. From what I see, this is finally it. There is no turning back from this. Just as Ross said when I first met him, "_Because no matter how much or how far you run, you can't escape your past. _It would appear he was right after all.

I close my eyes, thinking of all those I had met and known. 'Bonnie, Marshall, Jack, Abigail. Goodbye.' I take a deep breath, as I exhale; I put my hands of both doors in front of me. I push, and the doors fly open. I slowly walk out, looking at all those that surround me. 'There has to be at least 60 of them' I think as I slowly step forward. The soldiers and mercenaries cock their weapons as I step forward, each one aiming as I come to a stop. I look at them all, and then suddenly, everything seems to slowdown. The world seems to tint dark red and orange as I quickly look around. The tree leaves are moving at a snail's pace, and I see a hummingbird to the right of me, able to see its wings actually flap down excruciatingly slow. This had happened numerous times when I was hunting down Bill, Javier and Dutch. I reached for my Cattleman Revolver by my side. As I do, I mentally target six people in the crowd of mercenaries, little red X's appearing on each of them. As soon as the sixth comes up, I raise my gun to my hip as I put my left hand behind the lever. My right index finger pulls on the trigger, and a single thought goes through my mind as soon as it clicks. 'Might as well go out with a bang'.

_Third person POV_

To John, the world had slowed down, and he had pulled his gun and made careful targets in 2 minutes. However, to Ross and all he hired it had only been a second. All they saw was him drawing his revolver at lightning speeds, and suddenly there were six cracks in the air as six mercenaries fell the ground dead, blood spilling from their foreheads. There was a brief moment of shock. However, that's all it was. Brief. Suddenly, hundreds of gun shots filled the air as all those hired there fired at John Marston, their target. They saw a hundreds of holes appear on him almost instantly as they continued to rain pellet after pellet upon him. Ross suddenly raised his hand, and they stopped firing. They looked upon the man they were hired to kill. Blood splattered his face, a thin trail already falling from the corner of his mouth. The rest was not so pretty. The clothes covering his torso were torn to shreds, leaving nothing but what appeared to be a bloody mass. A waterfall of blood trailed down his body at an accelerated rate, leaving John coughing on his own blood, breathing heavily and barely able to stand. He slowly raised his right arm and dropped the blood drenched Cattleman Revolver that rested in his hand.

_John's POV_

Pain. Immense Pain. That seemed to be the only thing describable as I stood there, feeling the blood ooze out of my destroyed body, through my torn clothing, and fall onto the ground below me. I heaved with difficulty, trying to hang onto to the flame of life inside me that was starting to rapidly flicker out. Feeling my organs start to shut down, I looked up, getting one last good look at my killers. The most prominent and noticeable person there was Ross. As I fall to my knees, I see him put his pistol back in its holster. He brings out one of his cigars and places it in his mouth. He pulls out a match, and striking it against his pants, he lights the cigar in his mouth. I look at him one last time. I feel my heart start to stop, and as I feel my body start to loss the battle against gravity, my vision starts to fade. I fall backwards, my eyes looking up towards the sky. One final thought flows through my mind before I hit the ground below me, and my eyelids close over my soulless eyes, never to open again.

'_Abigail, Jack, I love you.'_

'_**Everyone will eventually pay for what they've done.'**_ -Unknown


End file.
